Cola

A faint light, so dim it was barely visible, flickered into existence and vanished in the darkness. Yet neither I nor Seo Yeong-ju—who hadn't slept soundly for a single day in the past five months—missed it. Our senses, finely tuned to detect anything out of place, locked onto it immediately.

"Seo Yeong-chan, did you see that?"

Her voice was barely more than a whisper, but it was thick with tension.

Even before Yeong-ju spoke, I was already staring at the spot—the rooftop of the commercial building right next door. It was far too faint to be a flashlight, closer to a pale white glow.

I instinctively held my breath, met Yeong-ju's eyes, and nodded.

As if by unspoken agreement, we both dropped low at almost the same moment, sliding our bodies beneath the window into the darkness where the light couldn't reach.

Someone was definitely over there.

This wasn't mere speculation. That light was absolute certainty for us.

They might have watched us explore the neighboring commercial building earlier today, followed our entire route as we returned empty-handed to this math academy. And right now, they could be coldly observing our reaction from that darkness.

"What do we do?"

Yeong-ju asked in a hushed voice, flat on the floor with her lips nearly pressed to the wall. Her hand was already clenched tight around the hilt of the dagger at her waist, an old habit.

"Attacking first is the worst option. They know our position, but we don't know how many of them there are, what weapons they have, or even where on that rooftop they're hiding.

Worst case, that light could be bait to draw us outside."

I ran through the possibilities at high speed, piecing together the worst-case scenarios like a puzzle. Faces of survivors we'd met over the past five months flashed through my mind—those who hid knives behind kind faces, those who screamed in terror and put everyone at risk, and the eyes of those who looked at us as nothing more than 'food.'

"But we can't just keep hiding here forever, right? If they set fire to this building, we'll burn to death. What if they move first and we get caught?"

"That's why I'm asking what you're going to do. Fight or hide—which is it?"

At Yeong-ju's words, I made up my mind.

I refused to spend the night in uncertain terror, slowly withering away. So—

"We go first."

"You're serious? It could be a trap, you know. You're not saying this out of desperation, right?"

Worry colored Yeong-ju's voice. If she was going to worry this much, why ask in the first place?

"If we stay like this, our stockpiled food runs out tomorrow. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Then we either starve, throw ourselves into that zombie horde, or leave this place…

None of those options sit well with me, but if you think about it for a second… At least whoever's over there has survived right next to that apartment complex for far longer than we have. They have guns, and there's a good chance they know information about this area we don't—zombie habits, safe routes, that sort of thing.

Yeah. It's a gamble, that's for sure."

Yeong-ju fell silent. Only her long, steady breathing filled the quiet.

She knew it too—our situation had reached the point where waiting alone could no longer solve anything.

We were standing at the edge of a cliff, and my proposal might be no different from reaching down and climbing the sheer face below.

"…Fine. Let's say you're right!

Then how do we approach? Walk right up to the front door and try talking like, 'Nice to meet you, everyone! Let's not hurt each other!'? What if a bullet goes through your head before you finish the sentence?"

Beneath the sarcasm, I felt a faint current of agreement. Yeong-ju was already bracing herself for the worst.

"Something like that. But a little safer, and more civilized."

I pulled an old flashlight from my backpack. To make the light as weak as possible, I layered thick scraps of cloth torn from a holey sock over the lens and bound them tightly with a shoelace. When I switched it on, only a faint, non-diffusing beam leaked out—soft as a firefly's glow.

"I'll go up to that rooftop first and send a signal.

If they've had even the bare minimum of education, they'll take the signal I'm sending as meaning no hostility, no intent to attack."

"I never know whether you're being crazy or bold sometimes, but what if they ignore it and just treat you as a moving target and start shooting? Even if your head is solid rock, you know bullets don't care, right?"

"Then you run from right here. Opposite direction. You know what I mean? Don't look back. Get as far as you can."

"Seriously, your head's full of flowers… Don't be ridiculous. What are you, some movie protagonist? If something happens to you, what about me? How long do you think I can last alone in this world?

…We go together! I'll watch your back, so you focus on the signal and staying safe. I've got your rear covered."

Yeong-ju spoke firmly, and from her expression it was clear any further persuasion would be a waste of time.

I nodded and adjusted my grip on the crowbar. "I'll head out first in thirty minutes.

Yeong-ju, you follow at thirty-second intervals. If I judge it's safe, I'll send a very small signal—watch for that and come. If there's no signal, something's gone wrong, so don't come at all."

Those thirty minutes felt endlessly long and agonizing. Hoping I wouldn't need it, I wiped the hook of the crowbar clean on my clothes, cleared any debris, and rechecked the balance. When the time came, I rose silently from my spot and locked eyes with Yeong-ju.

Be careful. You too. A brief exchange of glances.

The path out of the building to the neighboring commercial structure was only about thirty meters in a straight line, but with no way of knowing where those things might lurch out dragging rotten flesh, we pressed ourselves completely against the walls and moved like shadows, using abandoned cars and mountains of trash as cover.

Fortunately, the first floor of the building where the unknown survivor had been was clean. They seemed to be maintaining the area around their hideout.

I pointed with a finger toward the emergency stairs. After seeing Yeong-ju's nod, I stepped onto them.

I was being careful, but with every step the old concrete stairs crunched with crumbling grains of sand.

At last I reached the iron door leading to the rooftop. I pressed my ear flat against it and held my breath for several minutes, listening for any sound inside.

Only the wind. I turned the doorknob extremely slowly, a millimeter at a time. When the old hinges screamed with a long creeeak, thankfully no gunshot or other noise followed.

I opened the door. The rooftop was empty. There was no trace of the earlier light. Yet I instinctively felt someone was still somewhere on this roof.

I took one deep breath and deliberately walked out into the center of the rooftop without hiding myself, slowly, so that every movement was fully exposed to them. That, too, was a message.

I have no intention of harming you.

I stood revealed and waited, holding my breath. Ten seconds, twenty… one minute. No reaction. Had I been wrong? Was that light pure coincidence? Or… cold sweat ran down my spine as unease closed in.

"…Who are you."

The voice came from a direction I hadn't expected. Right behind me, from atop the stairwell roof leading up to the rooftop, came the voice of a woman who still hadn't fully shed the last traces of youth.

"Don't move! Move and you'll get a hole in your head."

With those words, a faint metallic object pointed at me from the darkness. The muzzle of a pistol, gleaming coldly in the moonlight. So they really did have a real gun. And not just one.

"Calm down. We don't mean any harm. We just… wanted to talk. We need help."

I raised both hands slowly—very slowly—as I spoke. I spread my palms wide to make it clear I held nothing.

Just then, the rooftop door behind me opened quietly again and Yeong-ju appeared. The silhouette in the darkness flinched and swung the muzzle toward her.

"There's another one! What the hell are you? I asked who you are!"

"We're just people trying to survive, same as you. Any chance you'll lower the guns first and talk?"

Yeong-ju answered calmly and with quiet confidence. She too raised both hands to show she meant no hostility.

"Yeong-ju, 'you people'? There's more than one?"

"…Hold on. I think the proper order is for them to lower the guns first and then talk."

The moment Yeong-ju finished, another silhouette slid smoothly into view from the place I'd originally expected—behind a pile of scrap stacked beside the massive water tank. Another woman. She held an identical pistol.

Had they been ready to pincer us from both sides the moment we came up?

"Drop your weapons. All of them. Kick them over here."

The woman on the stairwell roof ordered. Her tone ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠was a little lower and more steady. She seemed to be the leader of the two. Yeong-ju and I hesitated for a moment. In this hell, a weapon was the same as a life. But with two muzzles pointed at us, we had no real choice.

We exchanged a look that said, If they were going to kill us, they would have shot already, and decided to comply.

I set down the crowbar; Yeong-ju set down her dagger. We kicked them over with a soft thud.

Once we were completely disarmed, the two women slowly stepped out of the darkness. They looked to be in their early twenties. But their eyes were filled with a hard wariness that had nothing to do with their age—the kind forged by surviving multiple crises.

Both wore equally worn hoodies. The one who had come down from the stairwell roof had her hair cut short like a man's; the one by the water tank had long hair tied back.

"What are your names?"

The short-haired woman asked.

"I'm Seo Yeong-chan. This is Seo Yeong-ju. And you?"

The two women glanced at each other briefly, then the short-haired one spoke again. Her eyes were still scanning us from head to toe.

"…Yang Jin-ju. This is Nam Jin-ju."

"Your names… are the same?"

The words slipped out of me without thinking. Nam Jin-ju, the one with her hair tied back, snapped back curtly.

"So what? Is there a law that says people with the same name can't be friends? We met in college. We got close because of the names—got a problem with that?"

"No, I didn't mean it like that… just thought it was interesting."

"Whatever. Let's get to the point. How did you get here? Through that hell of a zombie horde down there? You two don't look like ordinary survivors. What's your purpose?"

Yang Jin-ju cut Nam Jin-ju off and took control of the conversation again.

"We don't really have a purpose. We saw that apartment complex and ended up stuck nearby, same as you. We scouted the area for a few days, found traces of you, and realized we weren't the only ones left in this hell… so we came on the off chance."

"Off chance of what? Stealing our food? Or after our guns?"

"If that was the plan, we wouldn't have come this politely. We'd have snuck in at night and cut your throats first. That would be more efficient, wouldn't it?"

"What, efficiency?"

Yeong-ju shot back coldly without giving an inch. A taut tension stretched between the four of us. Yang Jin-ju and Nam Jin-ju exchanged another look. They clearly didn't trust our words easily. Of course not. In this world, the scariest thing was a starving human.

"Where did you get those guns? You don't look like soldiers or police."

I changed the subject, trying to ease the tension. Yang Jin-ju hesitated a moment, then answered while staring into the distance as if recalling something long past.

"Early in the outbreak… soldiers from the 50th Division went into that apartment complex over there. They set up a defensive line between buildings 103 and 105 and said they were rescuing survivors. We watched the whole thing from the commercial building you can see from here.

Not a single one came back… The armored vehicles and trucks sank into the zombie horde along with the screams. A few days later we risked our lives searching near there and found these inside an overturned armored vehicle. We just got lucky."

Her calm words carried the vivid weight of memories far too horrific for someone so young to have endured.

Silence stretched for a long while. Only the cold night wind passed between us. At last, Yang Jin-ju lowered the muzzle of her gun just a fraction and spoke.

"…For now, follow us. We can't keep talking out here. Just don't get any funny ideas. Remember—we can pull the trigger a lot faster than you."

They led us to a small, inconspicuous iron door in a corner of the rooftop. It opened onto a narrow passage leading to the rooftop mechanical room, and their hideout was inside that room. It was cramped, but thick concrete walls on all sides made it easy to defend, and the tangle of old ventilation ducts looked usable as emergency escape routes.

On the floor were two sleeping bags, a modest, neatly arranged stock of canned goods, and the medical supplies we'd seen disappear during the day—sorted carefully by type.

"Sit there."

We sat facing each other at a careful distance. The atmosphere remained awkward and tense. It was Nam Jin-ju who finally broke the suffocating silence. She rummaged through a bag for a while, then tossed something in front of us.

"Here."

What landed on the floor was an old bag of snacks and a dented can of cola. In this world, sugar and carbonation were rarer and more precious than gold.

"…Why are you giving us this? Are you saying we should eat it?"

I asked, unable to believe it. Nam Jin-ju answered in the same curt tone.

"Don't get the wrong idea—it's not pity. Just… we've gone days without eating, so we know. And you can't have a proper conversation on an empty stomach.

Eat something first, then answer our questions honestly. This is a kind of trade."

Her words were cold, but the gesture was clearly kind. Or it could have been a cunning test—throwing food and watching our reaction, the way other survivor groups we'd last seen had done.

I wordlessly picked up the cola can. The cool, solid weight settled into my palm.

Yeong-ju silently took the snack bag and tore it open. The cheerful hiss of nitrogen escaping the bag echoed in the narrow mechanical room, and that sound alone filled my mouth with saliva.

But Yeong-ju didn't eat the snacks. She stared fixedly at the cola can. Then she suddenly let out a short snort of laughter. She almost never showed emotion or laughed, so I looked at her in surprise.

"Why are you laughing? Is something wrong?"

Yang Jin-ju asked warily, finding it strange as well.

"No, just… it's the original red can."

Saying that, she took the cola can from me and pulled the tab without hesitation. A crisp, refreshing pssshh—a sound I had almost never heard since the world ended—filled the air.

She brought the can to her lips without a second thought, closed her eyes, and downed more than half in one go. I could see her throat working hard.

"Ahhh~!"

Yeong-ju let out a genuine sigh of appreciation, then muttered to herself while staring into empty space.

"Before the world ended… I never even glanced at this stuff. I wouldn't touch anything but zero cola… But… who knew this sugar water could taste this good."

She closed her eyes for a moment as if savoring the taste, then raised the can again and finished every last drop. She set the empty can down on the floor with a solid clank. The whole sequence was so natural that for a second I almost forgot we were in a zombie-infested apocalypse.

I had been staring blankly, completely lost in the sight, when I suddenly shouted without thinking.

"Hey! Why did you drink the whole thing by yourself! You didn't leave a single sip! I was going to drink some too!"

"What? I grabbed it first, didn't I? And you can just eat the snacks. One each is fair, right?"

Yeong-ju shot back, eyes wide as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"No, we could have easily shared it! You could've drunk half and passed it to me! Are you the only one with a mouth?"

"I don't wanna. Why should I? And why are ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you taking it out on me just because you were slow to grab it? First come, first served."

"Wow, you selfish bitch. Whenever it's something like this you always hog the whole thing. Last time you ate the last chocolate bar by yourself too, didn't you?"

"What? You done talking? I found that chocolate bar, okay? You're the one who keeps picking up useless comic books and wasting precious backpack space! Do those comics feed you?"

"What does that have to do with this right now! And those comics are precious—they keep our humanity intact!"

We were sniping at each other, launching into the same childish, pointless argument we'd repeated dozens of times in our own hideout. A moment later we both realized this wasn't our private space.

Yang Jin-ju and Nam Jin-ju. Both still holding pistols, staring at us with eyes round as rabbits', looking back and forth between us. Their expressions said this was the most incomprehensible sight in the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠world.

The muzzle of the pistol Yang Jin-ju held had, without either of us noticing, dipped slightly downward. She briefly met Nam Jin-ju's eyes beside her.

In that look was a mix of bewilderment—What the hell are these people? Are they actual idiots?—and a faint thread of relief.

I stopped arguing, belatedly grasped the situation, and felt my face burn. Yeong-ju also looked awkward, clearing her throat and avoiding eye contact.

"…Ah, so… thanks for the cola. She, uh, enjoyed it…"

I mumbled awkwardly. Yang Jin-ju finally let out a small laugh. It was the first time I'd seen a smile free of wariness on her face.

"It's fine. There's one more over there—you drink that one. Don't fight."

She pointed with her chin at the last cola can rolling on the floor. Our ridiculous, almost desperate bickering had, paradoxically, left them with a strong first impression that we might not be dangerous people.

I picked up the remaining cola can and sneakily checked the system window. The message was still the same.

The suspicion hadn't fully vanished, but it was a strange sense of relief I hadn't felt in a long time—simply being with other people.

Was that alone enough to call today's gamble a success?